Greif
by Valkyrie Of Death
Summary: Alternative ending to  "Wilson". For now, a one shot.


House was standing in the observation gallery, watching Wilson's surgery. Everything was going fine. They had removed the piece of liver and was about to patch him up. Houses leg was not enjoying standing for so long, but he had to stay there and watch his friend. He had to be there for him. House was actually worrying about someone, of course he worried about people time to time, but right now he was letting it show. Cuddy was standing there with him, she looked worried to, but Cuddy always worried.

She could see that House was in pain, it couldn't be good for him standing for so long. She didn't say anything because she didn't want to trouble his mind any more than necessary. Cuddy could see how much he worried about his friend. "He's gonna be fine." House nodded softly and reached for his leg.

Suddenly House flinched, not because of his pain, but of what was happening down where his friend was. Wilson's heart rate was raising, he was bleeding out. House pushed his face to the glass, his worried look got worse. Wilson heart rate kept rising, the surgeons was struggling to stop the bleed. Houses eyes went from Wilson to the scream showing the bleed up close. There was blood everywhere. Wilsons body was filling up with blood. The surgeons were desperately trying to stop it when Wilson flat lined.

The constant beep from the monitor was intense and made an echo in Houses head. He was losing him, his only friend. His best friend through more than a decade was flat lining down there, and it was nothing he could do. All he could do was stand by the glass separating him from Wilson and the staff down by table. House had never felt so helpless before. The surgeons gave up, the called time of death. A chill went down Houses spine. He was dead, his only friend was dead. He was all alone now.

House wanted to scream. _Don't give up! Don't let him die!_ He wanted to run down there and shock him to life again. But he knew it was impossible. Wilson had flat lined, there was no hope for him. He was bleeding out. And House couldn't run. All he did was stand there in shock. He was looking at Wilson through the glass, a _dead_ Wilson.

House could feel a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Cuddy, she had tears in her eyes. They were pouring down her cheek. Houses whole body was shaking.

The first thing he felt was anger. That selfish, bastard friend of Wilson who didn't even know his popper name. It was his fault, House wanted to down there and kick his cancer ass. Wilson was only trying to be nice as always. Giving a piece of his liver to a friend out of guilt. Now Wilson was dead. Wilson had lost his life because he was nice. It wasn't fair, but on the other side, what was?

House could feel the tears pushing to get out. He wasn't going to cry, not here in front of Cuddy and the surgeons and nurses. He took one last look down through the glass. The surgeons were patching up his friend. They were Patching him up so he'd look better at his funeral.

House took his cane in the right hand and started walking towards the door. He could feel a jolt of pain shooting up his right leg as he started walking. He didn't mind the pain. Another pain was making him not recognize the leg as much, this pain were more constant and aching, this pain was coming from his heart.

"I'm so sorry House" Cuddy spoke with a shaking voice. He couldn't hold it back anymore. Cuddy's tears and his dead friend being covered with a White blanket in the background drove him over the edge. The tears forced its way through his eyes. He hated people seeing him cry, but Cuddy didn't seem to mind. She took her arms around his waste and gave him a long comforting hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, leaving it wet of tears. That was the next feeling; _greif__._

House went up to his office. He made sure all his tears were wiped off before he walked out the door from the observation gallery. Still, people could see he'd be crying. His eyes were red and sore, but nobody commented it. They left him alone. Everybody knew Wilson just died. He was allowed to cry; even Dr. Sarcastic was allowed to cry when his best friend just died.

He was sitting in his comfortable chair, staring at his desk. His mind was in a whole other place.

House was sitting by his friend Wilson, on his couch. They were watching a bad movie and they were exchanging nasty comments about it. They were laughing and drinking beer. House was more of a bourbon guy but with his friend he always drank beer. This was a standard Friday night. They were talking, nothing important, just chat. Wilson knew House didn't like discussing his personal thoughts, so he would avoid it. And House knew Wilson avoided it because of him, and he appreciated it. It was like an unwritten law: Friday night is House and Wilson night, no personal talk.

But now Wilson was dead. There wouldn't be any more House and Wilson nights with bad movies to mock. No more beer with his best friend. Wilson was gone and House was alone. So now House was sitting alone in his office staring in to nothing, thinking back at days when his best friend still was alive.

The Ducklings were sitting in the other office room. Cameron was crying in Chases comforting arms. Thirteen had a sad look on her face just as Forman and Taub did. Everyone was sad, because Wilson was a nice man and everybody liked him. Now he was dead, dead because one of his kind actions. He died while trying to help another humanbeing and that seemed horribly unfair. Thirteen looked at House. She felt sorry for him, Wilson meant so much to him. Off course he'd never say it out loud, but everybody knew. Wilson was the most important one in Houses life.

The whole hospital was in greave caused by Wilson's death. Cuddy had made her way back to her office. Tears were forcing their way down her cheek as she sat on her couch in Lucas arms. Cuddy had called him to come and he came to find his girlfriend on the couch hugging a pillow that was wet of tears. She felt safe now in Lucas arms but she was shaking. Wilson was her friend to, he didn't mean so much to her as he meant to House, but she cared a whole lot for him.

She thought about House. How was he going to survive now that Wilson was dead? Wilson was all he'd got. House had deliberately cut her out of his life after she got together with Lucas. House was going to be all alone.

The very same thing had struck Houses mind. He was grabbed by acute anxiety. He had no one. No one to talk to, no friends, nobody he trusted. He was all alone. Houses breath quickened, breathing suddenly was harder than normal. He tried to calm down but it was hard when he was thinking about Wilson's death.

Wilson had always been there. He was there after Stacy left and he was there when his leg was bad. Wilson helped him get through the pain. Wilson was there when House was hiding from Cuddy and Wilson was there when he wanted to talk about Cuddy. Most importantly; Wilson was there when House needed a friend. Now he was dead. There was no one there to help House through the pain both in his leg and his heart. No one to talk to.

House laid a hand on his chest; trying to calm down his breathing. It didn't help. His Ducklings acknowledged his trouble with breathing and came running from the other room. "House! Are you okay?" thirteen asked while the other Ducklings kneeled down by his side. "He's having a panic attack!"


End file.
